She takes my cock in hand and positions me at her entrance. First she eases the swollen head of my cock in, then she goes for it, lowering herself and taking all of me inside her.
“That’s it, baby,” I murmur, closing my eyes as she lifts herself and lowers herself again, taking me to the hilt. I shouldn’t be surprised at this point—it’s getting her into sex that’s the problem, not her aptitude once she’s there—but Francesca rides me like a fucking dream. She holds my gaze as she grinds against me, runs her fingers through her long, luscious dark hair, squeezes her own tits. I thought we might change positions after a few minutes, but fuck it, this one is perfect.
I can feel the tension building in my body, feel myself approaching climax, but then I notice Francesca getting wilder, holding onto my torso while she grinds her pussy against me.
“Sal.” Her fingernails dig into my sides, a thrill shooting straight through me as she moves her hips more urgently, closing her eyes, her hair falling and brushing my stomach. “Oh, God, Sal.”
“God, you are so fucking sexy,” I tell her.
She tries to laugh, but then she gets there. She cries out as her pussy convulses around my cock, and that’s it. There’s no holding on as Francesca’s orgasm pushes me over the edge. She’s breathing hard, but she keeps moving her hips as I groan with my release, giving me every last second of pleasure she can.
Once she’s drained me, she pulls up off me and snuggles up against my side. I curl my arm around her, pulling her close so I can drop a kiss on the crown of her head.
Once Francesca’s breathing returns to normal, she tilts her head back up to look at me. “That can also go in the like column.”
A short laugh shoots out of me and I shake my head. “I kinda figured.”
Part
Two
Chapter Seventeen
Francesca Morelli
“I don’t want a cupcake.”
My mouth curves down into a slight pout. I sigh, sliding into the passenger seat of Vince’s car and balancing the rejected cupcake box in my lap. Maybe he’ll want it later. “I’m really sorry,” I tell him. “Maybe I should’ve kept my nose out of it, but I had no idea.”
Sal came through for me with the private investigator, but it turned out Vince left a lot out of his version of events when he told me about the girl he liked. Sal’s brother-in-law-person uncovered his secrets in the snap of a finger, and now Vince’s relationship has gone to shit. I know it’s my fault, and I know given my own clandestine love it’s hypocritical, but I think it’s for the best. Mateo and Vince don’t have the best relationship to begin with; Mateo is even less likely to accept Vince’s situation than mine.
“I shouldn’t have let Cherie bring her to the bakery,” he mutters, throwing the car in reverse and flicking a glance in the rearview mirror as he backs out of the spot.
“I hate that you’re mad at me. You know I never intended to hurt you.”
“I’m not mad at you, I’m just mad at… every-fucking-thing. I knew better than to involve her and I did it anyway. It’s his fault for being such a suspicious dickhead. She wouldn’t have said anything, and I wouldn’t have had to hide her if he was a normal fucking person who would keep his nose out of my business.”
Since I stuck my own nose in his business, I can’t really say much about that. “I don’t know if it makes things feel better or worse, but she really liked you,” I tell him. “She came to the bakery to tell me off after you guys broke up.”
The corner of his mouth curves up, but it’s only a ghost of a smile, heavily painted with sadness. “It just sucks. I really liked her. She knows about the worst thing I’ve ever done, and she still likes me.”
I wish there was something I could say or do to fix it, but if I can’t resolve my own hopeless love story, I don’t see what I can do about his. It won’t make him feel any better to point out that they’re so young, and the likelihood of that relationship lasting—or at least, staying happy, because Morelli men have a tendency to make relationships last whether the women want them to or not—were so slight. It wouldn’t make him feel better to tell him that if he really likes Mia, he shouldn’t want to condemn her at 18-years-old to life as a Morelli woman. Even if Vince wasn’t like the rest of them, even if he wanted to let her go when their relationship fizzled, Mateo wouldn’t let that happen. Not with the damning evidence she has, placing Adrian at the scene of Vince’s crime.